


Maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay

by Poutini



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Tender naked time, Will write porn for poutine, damn those Brewers, gratuitous Bear Grylls reference, gratuitous use of the word 'fuck'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poutini/pseuds/Poutini
Summary: What if David planned to propose to Patrick, and step two in his plans was to invite Patrick's parents to town so he could ask for Clint's blessing?An alternate imagining of events leading up to and following Patrick's surprise birthday party.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 129
Kudos: 209





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dameofpowellestate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dameofpowellestate/gifts).



> Title from "You will be found" from Dear Evan Hansen. If you haven't seen the cast perform it on the Late Late Show, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_10msPMEick%22) it is. This was recorded near the beginning of the lockdown, and I remember how emotional it made me...with all of the complexity of everything that was, and continues to be, unknown.
> 
> This fic is for DameofPowellEstate, who is an extraordinary individual. Beautiful, inside and out, leaver of amazing comments, talented writer and overall spectacular human being.

_ Fuck. _

_ Fuck! _

David rolled the matte gold ring between his thumb and forefinger as he replayed every moment of the last 90 minutes. Of the last two years, maybe.

**Fuck!**

_ He shouldn’t have assumed. He should have seen the signs, read the room,  _ **_fucking known_ ** _ that the universe couldn’t let him have just this one fucking thing.  _

_ How could he think that it was a good idea to invite Patrick’s parents to celebrate Patrick’s birthday, _ **_let alone invite Patrick’s parents to town so David could request permission from Patrick’s dad to ask for his son’s hand in marriage?_ ** __

Fuck.

David tucked the gold band back into its box and secured it back in the zippered pocket inside his overnight bag. 

In the trunk, he placed his bag next to Patrick’s dusty  _ mountaineering shoes _ and ugly as fuck  _ fucking Bear Gryll’s _ brand water bottle.

_ Breathe, _ he told himself. David closed his eyes, and tipped his head back with a sigh. He took a deep, slow breath. 

_ Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. _


	2. Chapter 2

_ Thank fuck for half days. _

David flipped the sign to CLOSED, locked the door and headed to the back. It had been a slow morning, so cash-out was done, and he still had another half hour before Patrick was expecting him for lunch, so he flopped on the couch and closed his eyes. 

Anxiety started to creep in.  _ What was he going to say to Patrick? _

This whole situation wasn’t fair. Patrick deserved to come out to his parents on his own terms, and surely, well, maybe, David deserved something here, too, but that wasn’t at the top of his mind. 

David checked the time. The lock screen on his phone was a recent picture of Patrick, one eye peeking over a pillow, one shoulder visible, while the rest of him was covered with a fluffy duvet, from a recent trip to a bed and breakfast. It made David’s heart clench, and his stomach twist. 

He scrunched his eyes shut, fighting tears that were threatening to fall. 

“Siri, set a timer for 10 minutes,” he choked out.  _ You have ten minutes before you have to suck it up, and take care of him. _

***

David pressed a kiss to Patrick’s temple and pulled him tight against his chest. Patrick let out a shuddering breath, and David tightened his grip. 

The ring. The question. It could...no, it  _ had _ to wait. 

David brushed Patrick’s hair back from his forehead, his lips smoothing the furrow that had settled there. 

_ I will fucking do anything for him. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MTP David is my absolute favourite.  
> Willing to step on a landmine for Patrick. Quite possibly the greatest show of growth for David Rose.  
> The steeling breath he takes before entering the Brewer's motel room remains one of my favourite moments of the show. 
> 
> I forever remain a fan of David-the-Protector.

“I know that came out wrong, but we all understand what I'm saying, right?”

The Brewers agreed readily, and Johnny Rose made his exit, leaving David once again alone with Patrick’s parents. 

David wrung his hands nervously.  _ Fuck it, no more secrets.  _

“Um, listen. So, there’s one more thing I want you to know.”

Marci moved one step closer to David, gently placing a hand on his arm. David took a steadying breath. 

“I, uh, asked you to come here, because I actually was planning on asking for, uh, your blessing to ask Patrick to marry me.”

Marci’s grip tightened, her thumb now rubbing soothing circles over David’s sweater. Tears formed in her eyes.

“And, uh, I’m  _ not _ asking for that now. That needs to be on the back burner right now. For Patrick.”

Clint took a step towards David and Marci, his arm wrapping around his wife’s waist.

“But I just thought you needed to know. So you know how much he means to me. I’d do anything... _ anything _ for him.”

Both Marci and Clint closed the distance between them and David, their arms now enveloping David, who finally broke. Tears streamed down his face as the sheer emotion of the last four hours washed over him. 

David wouldn’t remember details. The words didn’t stick. Pretty much in one ear and out the other, but both Marci and Clint whispered affirmations of their appreciation for David’s care, concern and love of their son. But the warmth in their touch, and their immediate acceptance of what could have been some shocking news, would forever endear them to David. 

***

After the party, safely ensconced in blankets, lights down low, Patrick held David tight. A reversal of what one might have expected given the events of the day, but typical of Patrick to return what he had received, and return it in spades. 

David melted in his embrace. Safe. Loved. And planning how to get that _fucking_ gold ring onto Patrick’s hand as soon as fucking possible. 


	4. Chapter 4

Nearly two weeks have passed since Patrick's birthday.

David is alone in the store, while Patrick attends to a few errands. The shrill ring of the phone makes David jump.

“Rose Apothecary, David speaking.”

A throat clears.

“Hi, David. This is Clint. Clint Brewer.”

David’s voice softened. “Hi, Mr. Brewer. How are you?”

“I’m well, David, thank you. Listen, do you have a minute?”

David looked around the empty store. “Yep. What’s up?”

“I know you didn’t ask. But I’ve been thinking a lot. And you need to know that if you want to ask my son to marry you, you have my wholehearted blessing. I would be proud to be your father-in-law.”

David couldn’t speak. A nearly uncomfortable length of silence passed. 

“David?”

David choked back the quiet tears that had started falling.

“Uh, yes? I don’t know what to say. Thank you? I promise to take care of him?”

Clint chuckled softly. “Oh, David. We have no doubt. Please keep us posted?”

David promised. He hung up the phone, just as a gaggle of customers entered, providing a much needed distraction.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint hung up the phone and turned to his wife. She tenderly brushed a tear off his cheek, replacing it with a kiss. 

“I love him,” she whispered. 

“I know,” Clint replied softly. 

“Do you think he does?” 

Clint gently tucked Marci’s hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I don’t know, Marc. But I think we’ve got time to make sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and Poutini goes in for the tender kill.
> 
> I'm sorry! (No, I'm not)


	6. Chapter 6

Two big bags, ready to be stuffed with ice packs and cheese, sat next to the door. Patrick’s mountaineering shoes and hoodie nearby, and David’s black fluffy sweater, his best approximation of  _ hiking _ gear, draped carefully over the couch.

Teeth brushed, skin care routines complete, David and Patrick laid under the covers - Patrick on his back, and David on his side, tracing random patterns on the cotton covering Patrick’s chest.

“Mmm, I saw my dad called the store, do I need to call him back?” 

David shook his head. “Nope, I took care of it.”

“Took care of what?”

David paused. Stumped. _Fuck._ “Uh, just something...for your mom...from the store. Uh, she really liked the lip balms in the basket and needed more.”

Patrick turned to face David. “David. It’s been two weeks. She needs  _ more _ lip balms already?”

David felt the flush rise in his cheeks. Trapped. Fuck. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. “Yes? Uh...um…”

Patrick furrowed his brow. “David.”  _ Fuck, that tone _ .

David scooted backwards and off the bed, hands flailing. “Fine! Fine. You know what? Sometimes, things don’t work out like you planned. And you know what I planned? I planned on asking your dad for  _ his blessing  _ to ask you to fucking marry me...but you know…”

The look on Patrick’s face was a bit unreadable. “You...you...what?”

David stopped in his tracks. “Listen, I know we’d only sort of talked about it…”

“David.”

“But I just thought…”

“ **David**!”

Patrick slid off the bed and headed towards the backpacks sitting at the door.

David’s voice went up half an octave. “What are you doing?!”

Patrick pulled a slim, black velvet box from his backpack. He approached David cautiously, extending his hand.

Another half octave, as David took the box. “What is this?” 

He opened it a crack and took a peek, before hastily passing it back to Patrick.

“No! _Nope!_ You are  _ not _ usurping my proposal!”

David turned on his heel and headed towards his black overnight bag, stashed by the bedside table. He fished around inside before coming up with the small wooden box that had been burning a figurative hole in the bag, and his mind, for the last fourteen days. 

He held it out to Patrick, who closed the distance between them rapidly before taking it.

Awkwardly, David dropped to one knee, as Patrick opened the box. David held his breath, waiting for any reaction, verbal or otherwise. 

Patrick took the matte gold band out, holding it tenderly between his thumb and index finger. He looked at David, down on one knee, and his expression softened. Tears began to form in the corner of his eyes. “Well, aren’t you gonna, you know, ask…?”

David stood. His hands cupped Patrick’s face before trailing their way down his shoulders, coming to rest on his biceps. His voice couldn’t be louder than a whisper if he tried. 

“Patrick. I’ve never liked a smile as much as I like yours. I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you. I’ve never known love like I have when we’re together. It’s not been an easy road for me, but knowing you’ll always be there for me at the end of it, makes it all okay. Will you marry me?”

There’s only a brief pause as Patrick choked back a tear. He pulled David into a bruising kiss. 

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” he murmured against David’s lips, before pulling back. “But…”

“ _But?!_ ” David exclaimed. “After all that!?” _What the actual fuck?_

Patrick stepped back only so far as to give himself space to fall to one knee. “So, I was going to take you on a hike tomorrow that I used to go on a lot when I first moved here, and I was, uh, developing feelings for this guy that I had just gotten into business with, and I wasn’t sure if that guy had the same feelings, or if I would ever muster up the courage to let him know how I felt...but now, here he is...the love of my life, standing in front of me...and it just feels like I need to know...will you marry me?”

David re-opened the slim, black velvet box. Four perfect gold rings. Even with Patrick accepting his own proposal, doubt crept in. “Are you sure?!” he asked. 

“Easiest decision of my life,” Patrick assured him, rising to capture his lips in a long, languid kiss. 

Patrick kissed each knuckle as he slid each gold ring onto David’s finger, and David held Patrick’s hand over his own heart after he slid the gold matte ring on Patrick’s finger,  _ fucking finally _ .

_ Fuck you, Bear Grylls. Sometimes, it’s overcome, adapt, improvise.  _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated 'light E'.

David and Patrick stood in the middle of Patrick’s apartment, staring at their respective left hands, a long lapse of silence between them.

Finally, David spoke. “Did we...just…?”

Patrick nodded, dropping the small wooden box he’d been holding, in favour of wrapping his hand around David’s neck and pulling him in for a long, languid kiss. “Mmmhmmm,” he affirmed, the vibration running along David’s lips. “You’re gonna be my husband, David Rose.”

“ _Husband_ ,” David growled.  _ Oh fuck _ . The thought of introducing Patrick as his business partner and  _ fucking husband _ ... _ god. _

David wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, kissing him deeply, pressing their bodies together. Feeling Patrick’s erection against his hip, he slid his hands down Patrick’s back and grabbed handfuls of his ass for leverage to grind against him. Patrick buried his head in David’s neck, his lips drawn to the same spot every time. The tenderness of the kisses he pressed against the sensitive skin leading up to David’s ear were in sharp contrast to the desperate way Patrick’s lower half was seeking friction and the heat of David’s body. 

David walked Patrick backwards until his knees hit the bed. He sat down clumsily, his hands seeking stability and purchase on David’s hips. He looked up at David through his long, but light, lashes, eyes full of adoration for the amazing man who had just agreed to profess his love, and promise him forever. His hands found the drawstring on David’s complicated sleep pants, and he worked to pull them down with his boxer briefs, as David pulled off his own sweater. 

Patrick shucked his t-shirt as a very naked David Rose pushed him back onto the bed. His back arched into David’s touch as David leaned forward gently nibbling Patrick’s nipple as it hardened in the cool air. David’s hands ran down Patrick’s sides, a pink flush appearing in their wake. He pulled off Patrick’s boxers and climbed onto the bed, and on top of Patrick, straddling his thighs and pinning him down.

He bent forward and briefly captured Patrick’s bottom lip between his teeth. “ _ Say it again. _ ”

“ _ Husband _ ,” Patrick whispered. Again, a little louder. “ _ Husband _ .”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” David growled.

“You like that?” Patrick teased, pulling David’s hips flush with his own.

The contact of sensitive skin on sensitive skin made David gasp. “I do,” he choked out. 

Those two words made Patrick shiver. In his mind’s eye, he flashed forward to an altar, to suits, and flowers. “ _ Fuck, David,”  _ he moaned. 

David thrust against him. “Is that what you want?” David managed to ask, the words barely coherent as he rutted against Patrick.

“I do,” he whispered, and it was David’s turn to be struck by those two little words that now meant so much. David thrust hard against Patrick. “But…” Patrick rasped…

David stilled. His own momentary flash forward interrupted. “But what?!” he exclaimed.

Patrick couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh.  _ God _ , he loved this man who was so quick to jump from the frying pan into the fire for him but was also ridiculous and hyperbolic in his reactions. “But,” he said tenderly, “I don’t even want to let go of you long enough to prep you.”

He held David’s hips in place, and bucked up gently. “Can we just?”

David’s lips twisted to the side as he realized his over-reaction. “Mmhmm...just…” 

He reached into the nightstand and pulled out the lube. Cap clicked open, he beaded enough over both of their cocks. Cap once again closed, David lowered himself onto Patrick, who promptly wrapped his arms tight around him. 

Together they found a rhythm and a release. 

Back in bed once again, freshly cleaned up, David once again traced patterns on Patrick’s cotton covered chest. Patrick watched as the lamplight caught on the four gold rings on David’s hand, and though he’d never ask, he was pretty sure David was outlining hearts, and the letters D and P. 

When David’s touch slowed, Patrick shut off the lamp and settled down into the blankets. The ring on his own left hand clinked against one on David’s as he moved David’s hand off his stomach so he could roll over. David tucked up behind him, their knees nested together, David’s chest pressed against Patrick’s back. 

Patrick felt David kiss the nape of his neck with lazy lips that grew lax. He felt the puff of soft snores against his skin, and soon, sleep overtook him as well. 

They needed their rest after all. There were still backpacks and mountaineering shoes and cheese and icepacks and that ugly as fuck fucking Bear Grylls water bottle waiting for them in the morning. 


End file.
